No Tea Party at Boston

Last Saturday (29-Jan) the Martyrs travelled to Lincolnshire to meet the DML league leaders Boston United. Today's fixture, at home to Burton Albion, will be the first game MTFC will have played since the 4-1 trouncing at York Sheet. But do not be too disheartened, my friend, last Saturday was not as bad as the scoreline suggests.
For the DMFM crew this was the away fixture of the season. League leaders at their excellent York Sheet home coupled with the prospect of a major Saturday night SESH in Peterboro' afterwards. Quiet roads and some manic driving from Dai Jizz softened the journey up. Nottingham was reached in just over two hours but it took another 2 hours to get to Boston from this point, mainly due to the various tractors/combine harvesters/road sweepers that we got stuck behind on the A~2. Boston was reached at around midday. It was good to see another car full (Julie Martin's gang) arrive just after us as, due to a lack of numbers, the Supporters club were unable to run a coach to the game, which was extremely disappointing. The town centre was visited for a sweaty breakfast to line our stomachs for the long day ahead. Then, blind optimism struck. One member of the posse was convinced, after a dream they had on New Years Eve, that the Martyrs were going to win 3-0. A quick look in Corals' showed that Merthyr were 7-1 just for a win and 100-1 was offered on a 3-0 victory, A total sum of £7-50 was wagered on the two bets, together with a deep-sea diver on that night's lottery. We were convinced that by 8-l5pm that night we were going to be millionaires and The Martyrs would be 3 points closer to the Scum. As 1 said. Blind optimism...
One thing that must be said about Boston, it's like Beverly Hillbilly country! These tossers have the cheek to call us sheepshaggers. Cheeky bastards. A pint was had in the local JD Wetherspoon's - this place was a cross between Buffaloes and the Martyrs Club, Galon Uchaf. So, common sense soon prevailed and a return was made to the football clubhouse, for a game of cards and some pre-match gossip.
The game started extremely brightly for us; as a Craven corner (sounds like a Sunday morning wildlife show with namesake John) was slickly headed home by Lee Jarman to send the handful of Merthyr fans delirious.
But with the galeforce wind behind our backs, The Martyrs couldn't maintain this early spell. of pressure and by the interval were 3-1 down. Seamus Kelly, making his debut, had a nightmare for the second, and especially, the third goal. A nice touch from Cohen at half time saw the tireless wingback give the Irishman a consoling cwch! What a nice guy!
Ten minutes into the second half and it was 41 with Walker and Kelly leaving a left wing cross for each other. The Boston attacker wasn't so generous with his precision header. But, apart from these four efforts from the Pilgrims, they didn't really have another shot on target, whereas Merthyr had a number of efforts well saved by United's keeper Paul Bastock. The difference between the two sides was that their forwards took their chances whilst we had Gary Shepherd leading our line.
One of the most disappointing aspects of the day was the lack of support from South Wales. There was a maximum of 20 Merthyr fans at the ground, which was piss poor for such a `big' game. The United fans were also continually telling us how they had the best ground in Non-league football. To be honest they may have held a valid claim ten or fifteen years ago but the ground is starting to look a bit tatty. Unlike PP, there was only one tea bar at the stadium, and the clubhouse had all the atmosphere of the Glove & Shears on a Monday afternoon. PP may not be the best in Non League any more but our catering & social facilities are definitely top of the league.
On departure the Hill-billies wished us a pleasant journey home (albeit via a "Its a long journey home for the sheepshaggers" comment - pot, kettle, black springs to mind, here). But we were not destined for Heaven yet; we had a shedload of booze to drink in the public houses/discotheques of the fine City of Peterboro'. The rest of the evening was spent, quite predictably, drinking far too much, eating stodgy food and ultimately, puking it all back up again. In fact, I still suffered the after effects of the night in most Lay-bys on every road in Northants/Leicestershire etc., during the arduous journey home.
So, before you settle down to watch the Martyrs today, don't be too despondent, last Saturday wasn't that bad, honest!
COME'ON THE MARTYRS, DON'T MAKE ME EAT HUMBLE PIE.

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